


down the drain

by andthentheirwerenone



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Post Game, blake just wants to take a shower, blake tries to understand what is going on (he doesn’t really figure it out), miles and waylon save blake, miles helps him wash his hair, no editing we die like men, non romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:20:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24722200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andthentheirwerenone/pseuds/andthentheirwerenone
Summary: After being rescued by Miles and Waylon, all Blake Langermann wants to do is take a shower
Relationships: Blake Langermann & Miles Upshur
Comments: 1
Kudos: 41





	down the drain

**Author's Note:**

> I want to write something bigger with these characters eventually and this was a filler scene that I came up with so I’m posting it now. If I ever do write anything with this (that’s a big if) I’ll just mention it here
> 
> I also posted this on tumblr here https://andthentheirwerenone.tumblr.com/post/620937230783053825/down-the-drain-andthentheirwerenone-outlast !!!

Walking into the small bathroom of the motel, Blake finally found the moment to take everything in. It had all been a huge blur. Miles, and a unfamiliar man named Waylon, had broken into a Murkoff facility and kidnapped (no that wasn’t it, is it kidnapping when you’re being taken from kidnappers? Blake would have to think about that later) him in what seemed to be a massacre. At least, that’s how the two had described it (little details were given to Blake at the moment but it was probably for the better). All Blake seemed to remember from that day was people screaming his name, following the two men blindly out of the facility, and finally passing out at the end of it from exhaustion. Apparently he needed the rest more than he thought as he spent the next few days either asleep or drifting off and being unresponsive (yet the more he thinks about the past few weeks since that dreaded night he can’t seem to recall ever having a day that wasn’t like that). 

After waking up from what felt like the worst nap in the history of the world he knew exactly what he wanted to do first: shower. Waking up he had quickly noticed the dirty, bloodied clothes that clung to his body. Although the feeling and smell itself was unpleasant and reminded Blake of the dead bodies left to rot in the abandoned settlements of Temple Gate, he seemed relieved to find the clothes still on them. The same couldn’t be said for either of the other men and Blake had caught their grimaces that he knew could have only been caused by the pungent smell. After gaining the strength, and even courage, to leave the bed, Blake had quickly announced before the other two had the chance to speak that before he sat down to do anything he needed (and he stressed it) a shower before walking into the bathroom and about collapsing the moment he shut the door behind him. 

Leaning heavily against the sink, Blake looked down at his hands clenched to the rim of it. He could see through blurry vision how bruised and torn his arms looked, shaking as the discovery only made him sick. The nasty scars on his hands were beginning to heal (thankfully Murkoff has seemed eager to help disinfect many of Blake’s injuries but he soon realized it was only to make sure he stayed alive just a little while longer rather than anything sympathetic) but the knots of scar tissue, new and tender, still caused the bile to rise in the back of his throat every time he looked at it. Straightening himself up and releasing his grip on the sink, Blake tightened his right hand into a loose fist. Throughout the entire experience he still lacked a good amount of control over his hands, his guess was nerve damage and he could only pray it wasn’t anything permanent or severe. Relaxing his hand he turned towards the cramped shower and turned the knobs, a fresh stream of water coming out of the top faucet. Thankfully the shower had a tub at the bottom and although it was clear that Blake was not going to be able to fit comfortably in it, he was glad. Walking to the shower reminded him how weak and cramped his legs felt and he knew there was no way he was going to be able to stand underneath the shower without getting dizzy and risk falling. 

Slowly, as the sound of the running water drowned out his thoughts, he stripped the clothes off his back. The worn fabric clung to the cuts on his body and he groaned as he pulled the shirt over his head, the bruises on his ribs flaring up in pain as he moved. He became hesitant as he moved on to removing his pants. The last time he had been naked was when... ‘no.’ he muttered softly as he pushed the memory away. His hands had begun to shake again as he gripped the waistband of his pants and for a moment it seemed as if it was impossible to let go of the foggy memory. He let in a deep breath and closed his eyes as he stripped himself of his pants and underwear. Opening his eyes and looking down was a mistake, the sight of the mixed colors of yellow, purple, and black from bruises old and new scattered across his thighs and feet caused the dizziness to return once again. He bit his lip as he lifted his head back up, choosing then to go on with the shower and ignore the state of his own body. He placed his glasses, the lens at this point were cracked but he had no other option but to continue to wear them until he was able to find some more somewhere (although how was still a question), gently on the edge of the sink and stepped carefully into the shower. 

He let out a soft moan as the warm water hit his skin. The heat from the steam caused Blake to feel lightheaded and in an act of defeat he settled on sitting at the bottom of the tub, knowing it would be better to do so than risk falling or passing out. The water began stripping away the dirt, sweat, and blood along his body and with that it seemed his mind was become clearer. He looked around at the generic bottles on the rim of the tub until grabbing the body wash and pouring a rather generous amount in his palm. It stung against the cuts on his hands but he quickly ignored the feeling as he began slowly to clean himself. Working to clean the cuts on his body and avoid any pressure on his bruises was difficult but Blake soon enough caught a rhythm for it. For the most part, he felt as if he was washing away everything. As he watched the dirt and soiled water run down into the drain he imagined the memories of it all would fall soon after. Stripping himself of the body and the person he was that night gave him some form of comfort as he focused vigorously on the movement of his hands rather than the doubt that began to creep up in his mind. 

Blake had to assume he had been inside the shower for a while now yet no complaints came from Miles or Waylon outside. As he finished rinsing off the soap and dirt from his body and face he thought about the next step: his hair. Running his hand through it, he tugged at the matted and tangled curls that clumped together with sweat and blood. He winced as he pulled his hand away, his fingers catching one of the knotted curls and pulling a little too hard. Shit... he thought as he tried to think of what to do. His hands had begun to feel tender and sore, the scars on his palms becoming uncomfortable after rubbing them against his skin for too long. He doubted he would be able to do much for his hair at this state, his fingers feeling numb and useless. He hesitated for a minute before calling out, “Miles?”

Blake waited for a response until he heard the door crack open just enough for Miles to hear clearly. “Yeah? You need something?”

”I, I need help washing my hair.” Blake felt stupid saying it and he could feel his face burning up with embarrassment. It was dumb to ask the younger man for help. He knew him well, after living together in college and being close with him after, yet it still felt selfish asking the man for a favor. The pause before his reply only made Blake second guess himself more, it was obvious Miles didn’t want to do anything of the such and Blake cursed at himself for thinking so. To his surprise however he replied.

”Of course, just give me a minute. Turn the bath water on and just wait.” Miles closed the door afterwards.

Blake did was he asked and leaned forward, adjusting the knobs until the water shifted from the shower head to the tub faucet and he turned the drain until it closed. After waiting for the water to raise and shutting it off, Blake leaned back onto the cool ceramic of the tub’s edge and waited. Before long he heard a knock at the door and turned to see Miles walking in, the door about slamming behind him. He had changed his shirt for one with short sleeves, careful about not wanting to get his clothing wet as he helped Blake. Blake turned his head from the other and hugged his body, embarrassed about Miles having to see him in such a way. It felt childish to Blake, to be this insecure and scared about the reaction another person, a friend, might have when seeing you so tense and vulnerable. “I tried washing my hair but it’s just too messy for me to do much...” he spoke quietly. 

Miles could read Blake’s discomfort easily, the man had always been somewhat of an open book and Miles was smart about reading people well. “Hey look it’s nothing, don’t you remember that time I had to wash beer and vomit out of your hair after the party in college?” 

“You mean the vomit of the guy you were trying to hook up with?” Blake laughed softly and Miles joined in after.

”Exactly! It’s just like college.” 

It was clear to Blake that Miles was acting this way to try to cheer him up. The memory, although disgusting, brought a smile to Blake’s face as he thought more about the fun and exciting times Miles and him had in college. Blake leaned forward over the water and closed his eyes as Miles began to wash his hair. He poured water slowly onto Blake’s scalp and lathered the shampoo in his hands. Careful to avoid any huge tangles, Miles began to rub his fingers through Blake’s hair. Without thinking, Blake moaned softly as Miles did so. He thought back to years ago. Whenever Blake returned from another stressful day of work or class, when he was still in college, Lynn would always sit with him on their couch and run her fingers through his hair, messaging his scalp gently. She knew it was the quickest way to make him relaxed and it never failed to calm him down when he was stressed or upset. His head felt like it was up in the clouds as he felt relaxed for the first time in weeks. Miles chuckled softly at Blake’s change in demeanor.

”Damn, all I that good? I might have to charge you next time.”

Blake laughed again before getting quiet. “Sorry I didn’t really mean to do that. Lynn always used to mess with my hair whenever I was stressed. She knew exactly what to do to make me relaxed and I mean hell, it worked.” 

“She was good about noticing stuff like that.” Miles heard Blake make a quick sound of agreement. He moved to working in the conditioner, hoping to help with Blake’s tangled curls. “She always seemed to take note of what you enjoyed to use later. I remember saying something to her about a jacket I wanted that I couldn’t afford at the time. Months later on my birthday, there it was wrapped up all nicely. I had completely forgotten about mentioning it but she remembered, even got the sizing right.”

”Yeah, she was great.” He sighed. It saddened him to think about her yet he couldn’t help but smile at Miles’s memory. He remembered how excited she was about the gift that year, bragging about how no one could top it. She was so happy to be able to give him something like that. Lynn had always been like that about gifts and remembering things, even when they were young. 

“Well, that’s it I suppose.” He wiped the water off his hands onto the towel and stood up. Before leaving he spoke up, “I know you may not listen but hear me out, you look good Blake. Smiling like that, I mean, and well I guess overall now that you don’t smell or look like roadkill.” He chuckled. “Seriously though, it’s good to see you smiling again.” 

Blake couldn’t help but blush at the comment and looked back down at the water. He touched his hair, his curls now clean and soft. He smiled as he felt them. It seemed silly but it was one thing off of his chest and he felt lighter because of it. It was a step towards change and recovery. 

“Thank you.” He spoke out but Miles had already shut the down behind him.


End file.
